Clato One-Shot Collection
by xSarcasticNinjax
Summary: Like the title says, this is a collection of Clato one-shots. Each of them are based on a different Taylor Swift song and all my readers get to write in a review which song they think the chapter was based on. Test your Taylor Swift (song) knowledge while at the same time reading quality Clato one-shots!
1. Song 1

**Hello! This is xSarcasticNinjax. So basically this is a collection of Clato one-shots, each one based on a Taylor Swift song. YOU GUYS get to guess which song it is in a review. :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins does. The disclaimer for this chapter's song will be in the next chapter 'cause if I say it now all will be ruined.**

"Attention, tributes, attention," Claudius Templesmith's voice booms through the arena. Clove's and Cato's heads shoot up and they both gaze at the sky expectantly. "The regulations requiring a single victor has been... suspended. Two victors may be crowned if both work together to reach the end of the Games. This will be the only announcement."

Clove's mouth fell open and a smile slowly spread across her face. "Cato," she whispered, looking at him. "We can win together!" But for some reason Cato looked reluctant and Clove's heart sank.

"Cato... what is it?" Clove asked tentatively.

Cato sighed and ran his fingers through his air. "...Coral."

Clove's jaw dropped open. _You've got to be kidding me! _She reached forward and whacked Cato across the face, the resounding crack echoing through the forest. "Think! Why are you here?"

"To win," Cato muttered.

"Exactly! You're here to win! What are the odds of you winning with Coral if you're going against me?!" Clove snapped.

Coral was Cato's crush from District Four. So far, he's ditched the Careers twice to go save her butt. Clove wasn't surprised he was hesitant, but a pang of hurt shot through her heart. _Would you really leave me for her? _She quickly masked it with a look of contempt and disgust. _  
_

Cato looked at the ground. "Fine," he muttered. "Let's go." He shoved past Clove and kept walking ahead. Clove gazed after him sorrowfully for a while before following, head slightly lowered. Deep down, below all of the hurt, she was glad that Cato had stayed with her. If he had left...

Soon they had found a small cave to camp for the night. Cato was still not speaking to Clove. They set up a small fire silently and after a while, Clove dozed off to sleep.

* * *

Clove woke up alone.

Cato's sleeping bag and sword were both gone. As was he. Clove's heart sank.

When the betrayal finally sank in, Clove pulled her knees up to her face and buried her head in her knees, silently rocking back and forth as sobs wracked her body. _He lft. He's gone. He doesn't care about you. He loves Coral._

Clove forced her sobs to die down and put on a hard mask for Panem. _  
_

_Breathe._

_Breathe, Clove._

_Breathe._

Trumpets blared loudly through the arena and Clove's gaze shot to the entrance of the cave. _Two announcements in one Games? _

"Attention, tributes, attention. Commencing at sunrise, there will be a feast tomorrow at the Cornucopia." _Food. _The food supply was already dangerously low. Cato had taken half of the food they had when he left, so all CLove had now were a few nuts and berries. "This will be no ordinary feast. Each of you need something desperately, and we plan to be... generous hosts." _That's it, I'm going. _Clove pulled out one of her knives from the inside of her jacket and, instead of smirking like she usually did, she smiled sadly as the cool metal glinted in the faint light._  
_

If Cato were still there, he would have pulled out his sword at the same time Clove pulled out her knife and they would have smirked wickedly at each other. Clove pushed the thought away and started off out of the cave and into the forest to look for food.

* * *

That night, Clove returned empty-handed. She hadn't been used to figuring out what to do on her own, Cato was the leader, he would always tell her what needed to be done, and usually they would turn out alright.

Clove knew that they would have to split up eventually, she just didn't expect it come so soon. Every time there was a possiblity that their alliance would split, she put everything into making sure it stayed. Now all that effort was wasted. She had known that when the alliance split, she would be sad, but she had never expected the pain to be this great.

_A tribute destined for victory makes no binding connections with other tributes._

Clove cursed herself bitterly for not listening to her teachers. She cursed herself for letting Cato fall for Coral. She cursed herself for falling in love with him. Clove curled up into a tight ball and wrapped her arms around herself, silently crying herself to sleep.

* * *

As Clove looked down on Cato from the sky, she smiled softly to herself. It was only him, Girl On Fire, and Lover Boy left. They were running for the Cornucopia, away from the dog muttations.

_He's gonna win._

She watched as Girl On Fire hauled Lover Boy up onto the Cornucopia. She watched in satisfaction as Cato grabbed Lover Boy into a headlock. She watched in confidence as Girl On Fire notched an arrow, directed at Cato. She watched in worry as Lover Boy drew an X on the back of Cato's hand, a target for Girl On Fire's arrow. She watched in horror as the arrow was released and Lover Boy shoved Cato off the Cornucopia. She watched in auguish as Cato landed on the ground and the mutts began tearing him apart.

_Cato, _she thought. _I'm sorry._

**So tell me, which song do you think it is? This one isn't as popular as some others, but it's my favorite song of all time, which is why I decided to do it first. I kinda gave you a not so subtle hint in the context.**

**Until next time!**


	2. Song 2

**IT WAS BREATHE!**

**Yes, the last chapter's song was Breathe from the album Fearless. If you haven't heard it before, listen to it! It's really good. Congratulations to maddyme, Sky of the field, starlight0720, and Isabelle. Ludwig for getting it right. ****I just love that song so much! This next one is more famous and different than most other Taylor Swift songs, so maybe it'll be easier.**

**Disclaimer: The amazing Suzanne Collins owns the Hunger Games. The equally amazing Taylor Swift owns Breathe, which was the last chapter's song. The disclaimer for this chapter's song will be in the next chapter.**

Clove stood on the balcony, playing with the diamond ring on her fourth finger. She tilted her head back and inhaled, breathing in the cool night air. Closing her eyes, she smiled softly as she recalled memories from 20 years ago.

_(flashback)_

_Seven year-old Clove stood in the doorway of the Academy, wide-eyed and petrified. This was her first time at the Academy; her father had decided to bring her to the party celebrating the most recent victory in the Hunger Games. Her father gave her a rough push and she forced herself to take a step forward._

_"What were the two most important things I've taught you?" her father hissed into her ear._

_"Show no fear," Clove whispered back, "and make no binding connections with anyone. But Father-"_

_"But nothing. Now go," her father hissed, giving her one last shove forward before disappearing to chat with some other men. Clove just stood there, staring around, not sure what to do or where to go._

_Suddenly she was shoved forward from behind. "Move it," an older, dark haired boy hissed as he and his group of friends shoved by her, muttering about "little girls" being at such an important party._

Little girl, _Clove thought indignantly. _I'm _not _little.

_Glancing around, she spied an empty balcony. Eyes lighting up, she quickly made her way over to the particular building and ran up the staircase, black hair flying. She glanced around, looking for the balcony. After peeking behind many curtains and opening many doors, she finally found the balcony. She slipped onto it and pulled the curtain shut._

_Her eyes roamed the party below her and she smiled at the small feeling of power that she had, that she was watching everyone without them knowing. Ball gowns, tuxedos. Laughter, talking. Clove felt a twinge of loneliness but pushed it away._

* * *

_Clove poured herself a small cup of punch. It had been hours and Clove was bored to death. She had watched the party on the balcony for about an hour, then went back down to get something to eat. She had stuffed herself to pass time until she couldn't eat another bite._

_Turning around, she leaned slightly on the table and glared at different people at random while sipping punch. Her eyes fell on a tall blond boy making his way over to the table. He looked just a bit older than her, not much older than eight. She quickly stepped to the side as he approached the table so he could reach the refreshments, but he didn't take anything._

_"Hello there," he said, smirking. Clove subtly glanced to the side to see who he was talking to. "I'm talking to you," he says. Clove glanced around again. His smirk grew wider and amusement sparkled in his eyes. Oh how she wished he was talking to her._

_The blond boy walked closer to her and tapped her on the shoulder. She gazed hesitantly up at him and forced the same glare on her face that she'd been giving to everyone. _

_"What do you want?" she snapped, remembering her father's lessons and forcing as much coldness into her voice as possible._

_The boy smirked even wider, and Clove's heart skipped a beat. _Wait, what? _she thought in horror. _Your heart totally did _not _skip a beat.

_"I'm talking to you," he repeated. Clove's eyes widened, but she quickly composed herself._

_"And why should I care?" she retaliated. _

_The boy ignored her and stuck out his hand to shake. "I'm Cato," he said. _

_Clove ignored his hand. "Look, what do you want?"_

_"To talk to a pretty lady," he replied without skipping a beat. "What's your name?"_

_Clove had a mental debate wether or not she should talk to this stranger. "Clove," she finally said. "Happy?"_

_"Not until you dance with me," Cato said, again without skipping a beat. He offered her his hand and Clove stared at his hand, then him, then his hand again._

_After a moment of silence, he shifted his weight from one foot to another. "Well?"_

_"Fine," Clove relented, taking his outstretched hand and letting him lead her to the dance floor._

_Thankfully the current song was a fast song. Cato and Clove twirled across the dance floor, two small children among deadly, lethal teenagers, but they both ignored everyone and pretty soon, Clove found herself having fun. Cato was also grinning and Clove let herself smile back._

_All too soon, the song ended. For a moment, Cato and Clove just stared at each other silently, neither knowing what to say._

_"Clove!" _

_A voice rang through the crowd and both Clove and Cato turned to see who had called. It was Clove's father, striding toward them in long, angry steps. He pulled Clove roughly away from Cato and shoved her behind him, glaring daggers at Cato._

_"Father?" Clove said softly._

_"Be quiet Clove," her father snapped, his eyes still trained on Cato. "Get lost, boy." Cato nodded and disappeared back into the crowd. _

_"What were you thinking?" Clove's father snapped, raising his hand and slapping Clove. Clove's head snapped to the side with the force of the impact and her left cheek burned. "I told you not to make aquaintances with anyone!" Clove had no idea what "aquaintances" were, but she stayed silent, head bowed, fighting back tears._

_Clove's father's expression softened slightly. "Why did I tell you that?" he asked._

_"So that when I start to train here, there won't be anyone distracting me from training," Clove answered quietly._

_"That's right," her father said. "It's for your own good, Clove. And especially Cato. I know his parents. They are not pleasant people. His father- forget it. Just stay away from him, and I'll tell him to stay away from you." _

_Clove pursued her lips but didn't say anything. "Okay," she muttered._

_"I'm going to go tell my friends we're leaving," her father said. "Wait here." And he disappeared back into the crowd._

_Clove glanced around wildly for Cato. She caught a shock of blond hair near a staricase and raced over. _

_"Cato!" she gasped._

_He turned around and raised his eyebrows when he saw her. "Yes?"_

_"I'm sorry about my dad," Clove said softly._

_"Don't worry about it," Cato said, smiling reassuringly before turning to go._

_"Wait!" Clove shouted, raising her hand as if to stop him. Cato stopped in his tracks and glanced back at her. "When can I see you again?"_

_Cato shook his head sadly. "You'll see me when you start training here," was all he said before he walked away._

* * *

_Clove walked silently along the path, holding up a small lantern in front of her. She ducked under a low-hanging tree branch and glanced around for Cato. She was 13 now and he was fifteen. They hadn't spoken to each other ever since that party. Earlier that day, they had run into each other, literally, during training, and after a small chat, the only one they'd had since six years, they had agreed to meet in the garden. She held the lantern a little higher as she heard a small rustle in the bushes. Cato stepped into the light and they smiled at each other._

_"Hey," he said softly, walking up to her._

_"Hey," she whispered back._

_Cato took her small hands in his rough, calloused ones and pulled her close to him. Clove's eyes widened in surprise and hesitation, but after a moment she relaxed into him._

_"What are doing?" Clove whispered, half to herself. Cato heard her and squeezed her hands._

_"I'm not sure," he whispered back. "There's just... something. Something about you that draws me to you."_

_"I can't stop thinking about you," Clove admitted._

_Before Clove could comprehend what was happening, his lips met hers in a kiss. His soft lips on hers, his warm bulk surrounding her, his arms wrapped around her waist protectively. Clove entangled her fingers in his feather soft blond hair and kissed back fiercely._

_They broke apart, both panting hard. "Cato," Clove breathed._

_"Clove," Cato whispered back. "I... I think I love you."_

_Clove's face broke into a huge smile. "I think I love you too."_

_"Meet me next week," Cato demanded. "Same place, same time."_

_Clove smiled. "Of course," she promised._

* * *

_Clove and Cato had been secretly meeting for months. They had started in October and now it was January. Clove walked silently along the path like she did every week to their meeting place. A smale decorated her face at the prospect of seeing Cato. _

_Cato wasn't there yet, so Clove sat herself on the stone bench and waited for him. _

_After half an hour, Clove sighed in resignment. They had agreed previously that if one had been waiting for more than half an hour and the other still hadn't showed up, they wouldn't be able to make it. Clove stayed an extra 15 minutes to make sure that Cato wasn't coming, then reluctantly left for home._

* * *

_The next week, Cato still didn't show up. Clove shrugged in disappointment and returned home with dragging footsteps._

* * *

_It had been years. Cato had won the 75th Hunger Games. Clove won the 76th. This year it would be the 79th Games. Everyone was happy (at least in District Two) since every Hunger Games since the 71st had been won by a District Two tribute. _

_Cato hadn't shown up at any of the meetings. None. Clove had tried to approach Cato several times at the Academy, but he had always been with friends or instructors and she'd never been able to get him alone, especially since her father worked as in instructor at the Academy._

_Yet Clove still clung on to the hope that Cato would come. So every week, she found an excuse to leave the house and go to their meeting place. But he never came. Never. And after half an hour, Clove would burst into tears with the realization that he wouldn't come. Every week. Walk to the garden. Wait. Cry. Go home. The same old routine, every week._

_Clove's hope was slowly slipping through her fingers, even though she forced herself to go to the garden every week. Even though she knew he wouldn't be there._

* * *

_Cato didn't come. Again. Then again, what did Clove expect? _

That's it, _she decided. _I'm not coming anymore. She_ was preparing to leave when a rustle sounded in the bushes. Clove whipped around and her hands curled into fists if she needed to defend herself._

_"Who's there?" she demanded._

_A tall figure slowly moved forward. A gasp sounded from Clove's mouth when she realized who it was._

_Cato._

_Tears slipped down her cheeks against her will. "What are you doing here?" she asked coldly._

_Cato gazed into her eyes. "Meeting you," he replied calmly. "What did you think?"_

_"Where have you been for the past half year?!" Clove cried. "I came every week and you didn't show up. You _never _came."_

___"We both know our relationship is wrong. I thought that if I stopped coming to the meetings, I could let you go. I had to force myself to avoid you at the Academy and not go to the meetings. I know I should have told you, but I couldn't bring myself to see the look on your face," Cato admitted, looking down. He couldn't bring himself to look into her eyes. Clove stayed silent._

_To her surprise, Cato got on one knee and pulled out a small velvet box from his shirt pocket._

_"Clove," he began slowly, opening the box to reveal a shining diamond ring. Clove let out a small gasp. "I love you. I love everything about you; the way you laugh, the way you can think of a smart comeback in seconds, the way, you make me happy like no one else can. It killed me to stay away from you. I need you next to me for the rest of my life. Clove Isabelle Sevina, will you marry me?"_

_"W-what about our parents?" Clove stuttered afte rher moment of surprise. Cato smirked._

_"I talked to your parents," Cato said. "Your mother was easier to convince, but it took me longer to get your father to change his mind. But I've made sure my parents and your parents are okay with it."_

_"Then yes, of course I'll marry you," Clove said, tears streaming down her cheeks. Cato held his arms open and she flung herself into them, hugging him._

Clove broke out of her reverie with a flash. Behind her, Cato snored loudly on the bed. She snickered to herself and joined him. His arms wrapped around her in a warm embrace as soon as she lay down and a small smile graced her face.

**Hopefully Cato wasn't too OOC. It's very important for me to capture the true essences of characters.**

**I'll update when someone guesses correctly. If I have the next one typed up that is. You can also request songs, but that's not to say I'll do it right away. Just to give me ideas. I'm planning to do as many Taylor Swift songs that are relevant to Clato, so the one you request will probably be done eventually.**


	3. Song 3

**OMG!**

**7 reviews for the last chapter and 6 reviews for the first? That is unbelievable! That's like, just a tiny bit smaller than the amount of reviews those really, really, really good authors on FFn get!**

**Gosh. Either the first chapter was really hard or it sucked or the last one was really easy. Yes, the last chapter's song was Love Story. Congratulations to Isabelle. Ludwig, smilesandrainbows, Annatom14, sibuna4everfabina, Anonymous, Katniss, and Guest for getting it right! **

**Disclaimer: Suzanne Collins owns the Hunger Games, and Taylor Swift owns Love Story, which was the last chapter's song.**

Clove listened aptly as the instructor gave a lecture about choosing alliances. She had just started attending recently and Clove planned to learn as much as she could until when she volunteered for the 76th Hunger Games. Or at least she planned to.

The instructor was in the middle of listing which districts generally had the best non-Career tributes when the door banged open. Clove's head swiveled to the side for her to glance at who had walked in.

A blond boy sauntered into the room leisurely and plopped down in a seat at the back. He looked just a few years older than her. Spiky blond hair, steely grey eyes that seemed to pierce her straight to the soul, and the beginnings of muscles, the boy made Clove shiver, even though she didn't realize. Something about him made her wary of him, but she couldn't help feel drawn to him.

"You're late," the instructor snapped.

"Wow," the boy deadpanned, taking a seat in the row in front of her. "Your observation skills make me green with envy." Clove's jaw nearly dropped at his disrespectful tone. _Do you _want _to get sent to the Headmaster's office?_

"Watch your tone, Cato," the instructor snapped, even though a bright red flush bloomed on his cheeks. Cato simply shrugged. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"Nope," he replied shortly. The instructor glared at him but returned to the lesson and Clove's attention snapped back to him.

"-probably handled an axe in their lives at some point and if they worked in the woods they would be decent a plant identification to make sure they don't step in poison-"

"Siltstone," Cato interrupted. The instructor glared at him.

"That'll be Mr. Siltstone to you. What is it?"

"What's a seven-year old doing in this class?" he asks scornfully, inclining his head to Clove. "What's she even doing in the Academy?"

Clove's mouth fell open in indignation. "I'll have you know that I'm eight," she snapped. Cato raised his eyebrows in disdain and looked her over.

"First of all, you're short enough to be six," he began. Clove glared daggers at him but he met her gaze unflinchingly. "And this is the ten-year-old class anyway. So what are you doing here?"

Clove opened her mouth to respond, but the instructor beat her to it.

"Cato, the Headmaster and Clove's other teachers have decided that Clove has well exceeded the standards for eight-year-olds and even nine-year-olds, so we put her in this class," the instructor said coldly. "But that shouldn't even be any of your business. And Clove well exceeds you even in this class."

Clove smirked in triumph as Cato's jaw dropped in fury and she let out a small snicker. Cato apparently heard her and whipped around to glare daggers at her. She met his gaze with a wide smirk and wiggled her fingers in a taunting wave.

Cato fell back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest; glare still plastered across his face. The instructor gave her a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. Clove grinned and returned the small nod and the instructor went back to the lesson.

Later that day, Clove's class was in their training slot, when they got to use the training room. Clove was currently chucking knives at moving dummies with terrifying accuracy; even better than some of the other ten-year-olds in her class.

After a while, she ran out of knives and when the instructor called "Clear!" she went to go retrieve them.

Holding the daggers, she walked back to the line in the ground and prepared to launch a knife at the dummies.

As she tossed the first knife at the first dummy, a warm bulk appeared behind her. Clove whirled around in surprise. It was… Cato.

"What are you doing?" she snapped, slightly relaxing her tense limbs.

"You're actually pretty good at throwing knives," he murmured, ignoring her question.

Clove raised her eyebrows at the compliment. "Uh… thanks. You're not so bad at sword fighting yourself." Cato smirked and Clove immediately regretted complimenting him back.

Clove turned back to her knife throwing but Cato stayed to watch. She could feel his eyes burning holes into her as she threw each knife and she squirmed a little, feeling uncomfortable. She forced herself not to look at him and act nonchalant.

When she had finished and retrieved the knives, Cato grabbed them from her and pushed her to the side.

"What are you doing?" Clove hissed in outrage, making a grab for her precious knives.

"My turn," Cato replied simply.

"You can't just take my knives like that and shove me away!" she snapped.

"I just did," Cato answered, cocking an eyebrow at her.

Clove fell silent and crossed her arms, glaring at him. He smirked triumphantly. "Curse you," she muttered under her breath. Cato seemed not to notice.

When he threw the first knife, it embedded itself in the dummy's wrist. Clove let out a bark of scornful laughter and Cato scowled.

"What a prodigy you are at knife-throwing, Cato," Clove snickered. Cato shrugged, to Clove's fury, and threw another one. It landed in the dummy's stomach. Clove snorted loudly. Cato shrugged again and threw another knife.

After about seven attempts, Cato finally managed to launch a knife into a dummy's neck. He whooped in triumph and Clove simply raised her eyebrows.

"It took you seven tries to get that," she said flatly.

"But I got it," Cato said, infuriatingly pleased with himself. Clove grabbed one of the three remaining knives and chucked it at the same dummy from where she was standing. It struck the exact same place Cato's had, except it was at an angle.

Cato scowled in annoyance, but shrugged it off. "I could beat you in sword-fighting anytime," he said.

"Yes, 'cause you're like, fifty pounds more than I am," Clove pointed out.

"And I could beat you in spear-throwing, archery, and hand-to-hand combat," Cato continued.

"Ahem," Clove interrupted. "Hand-to-hand combat? Sure you could."

"Wanna try?" Cato asked, eyes gleaming with the prospect of a challenge. Clove shrugged.

"Why not?"

It had been six years since Clove first met Cato. Clove was now fourteen and Cato was sixteen.

Cato had recently asked Clove and she had gleefully accepted. They had never actually kissed, however.

One day, the two were walking home from the Academy, like they always did. Laughing and joking around, they pushed each other down the path as they teased and playfully insulted each other.

"After all these years, you still suck at throwing knives," Clove stated.

"Oh how you wound me," Cato moaned, clutching at his heart mockingly. "And after all these years, you still suck at fighting with a sword."

"You also suck at archery, gymnastics **(A/N: Yes, at the Academy, they made them learn how to do gymnastics to get them flexible)**, hand-to-hand combat, plant identification-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait," Cato cut her off, holding up a hand. "Plant identification? That's not even fighting!"

"Yes, but you'll need it in the Games," Clove retorted.

"Not if we have supplies, and I will make sure nothing happens to our supplies," Cato said confidently. "And seriously, I am awesome at hand-to-hand combat. You're just jealous of how good I am and you're trying to make me feel bad by saying I'm bad at it."

Clove snorted. "Ronan knocked you off your feet last week like it was a piece of cake! And he's… what, a year younger than you? "

Cato growled. "He did not knock me off my feet. I had… an itch and wasn't paying attention."

Clove smirked. "Sure…" she drawled. "Sure you did."

Cato turned on her and stepped forward intimidatingly. Clove unconsciously took a step back. Cato backed her up until Clove felt her back hit the trunk of a tree.

They were silent for a few moments, glaring into each other's eyes. Then Clove did something that surprised Cato and surprised herself even more.

She kissed him.

When her lips touched his, Cato stiffened and pushed her away. Clove's heart sank and she couldn't force herself to look him in the eye, her face burning with embarrassment.

Cato didn't say anything. He didn't do anything. He just walked away without a word. Clove gazed hopelessly after him, then sank to the ground and buried her face in her hands.

_You idiot._

The next day, Clove approached Cato at the Academy. He was at the sword-fighting station, like always, so Clove waited until the match was over, and then walked up to him.

"Cato?"

He turned around to look at her. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about yesterday…" Clove trailed off awkwardly.

Cato smiled wryly. "Yeah… it's okay." He started to walk away when Clove stopped him.

"Do you want to go out for coffee this afternoon?" she asked, slightly hesitantly.

Cato smiled. "Of course."

* * *

"-so then she tackles me, but before she has time to react, I tuck my legs to my stomach and extend them and she goes flying!" Clove finished, grinning. Her face fell at Cato's reaction.

He nodded absentmindedly, staring out the window of the small cafe.

"Cato?" Clove asked, snapping her fingers in front of his face. "Are you even listening?"

"Of course I am," he replied, flashing her his signature smirk that made any and every girl melt. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh I don't know," Clove snapped sarcastically. "Maybe because you're staring out the window and not even looking at me and smirking to yourself for nothing."

"Clove," Cato sighed. "I'm listening, okay?"

"Now you are," Clove retorted. "What did I just say?"

Cato smirked wider. "You said 'What did I just say?'" Clove gave him a look.

"You were talking about... how you beat a sixteen-year-old in knife-throwing," he finally said.

Clove let out an exasperated sigh. "No, I was talking about how I beat a sixteen-year-old in hand-to-hand combat. Do you even care?"

Cato growled. "Well everything you talk about it boring anyway! All you talk about is how you beat people older than you in training! You never talk about anything else!"

Clove's jaw dropped in outrage. "Oh, so now it's _my _fault!"

"I'm just saying if you want me to listen to you, you should talk about something interesting for once!" Cato snapped before grabbing his coffee, slamming his chair back, and storming out.

Clove glared daggers at his back. "How dare he?" she snarled quietly to herself. "It's _my _fault all my life is consisted of is training and him?"

* * *

The day after, Cato approached her at the knife-throwing station. "Clove?" he asked, like nothing was wrong.

"What?" she snapped. Her pride had been wounded more than she cared to admit when he told her she was boring.

"Wanna come to the movies with me on Friday?"

That's it. He doesn't apologize for saying what he did. He didn't give her a hug to make up for it. He just asks her to the movies. _I guess that's the best I'll get out of him._

"'Kay," Clove muttered. Cato smirked.

"See you then." Then he walked off. Clove threw her last knife and walked quickly to the ladies' room, trying to hold back her tears. She slammed the stall door and locked it. Putting the toilet lid down, she sat down on it and buried her face in her hands, crying silently.

_I'm just saying if you want me to listen to you, you should talk about something interesting for once!_ The words echoed hollowly in her brain and she cried harder. _Am I really that boring?_

_At least he's not seeing you cry, _she told herself with a bit of satisfaction.

When she came out of the bathroom, Cato walked back up to her. "Are you okay?" he asked tenderly. Clove glared at him. _How dare he pretend. He knows it's because of him._

"We're over," she hissed, slapping him and walking off. Cato stood staring after her, dumbfounded.

"Hey, Clove!" he called, running after her. He reached her just as she reached the knife-throwing station and she grabbed a knife, pointing it at his throat.

"Don't come close to me," she hissed.

"Just tell me what I did wrong," Cato pleaded.

"You know what you did wrong," Clove snarled. "Get lost." She turned her back on him and started throwing knives with a ferocity she had never had before. Cato had no choice but to walk away.

* * *

Clove had completed a double back handspring on the balance beam when she overheard the girls next to her talking about Cato.

"He's dating Juniper now, have you heard?" one of them gushed.

Another sighed enviously. "How I wish I was her."

"He's taking her on dates every other day," the first one giggled. "I think he really likes her." Clove clenched her fists and forced herself to ignore them as she did a cartwheel. _Did you seriously expect him to stay single for long?_

Clove thought back to their first date together. Even then, Cato hadn't been listening to her. He was just staring at her face. _That's all he cares about in girls, _Clove thought bitterly. _Their beauty._

_And you really thought he loved you, _Clove cursed herself. _Naive much?_

* * *

Clove lay in her bed that night. Her studies had been rapidly spiraling downwards because her mind had always been occupied with thoughts of _him_. The one she had warned herself was trouble yet still dated. Still loved.

That was when she realized what she hated about him the most.

The fact the he had changed her. Changed her. Because of him, she had lost everything she had ever prided herself on. Straight As in all her classes. The reputation of a cold, frightening girl who would stop at nothing to earn a place to volunteer for the Games. Her true self.

* * *

It had been one and a half years since Cato had first asked Clove to be his girlfriend. A year since Clove had broken up with Cato. Half a year since Clove had finally gotten over him.

Cato had volunteered for the 74th Games and was killed in the end by dog mutations. Clove had watched his death emotionlessly and had only felt a slight pang of sadness. Now she sat, staring at the invitation for Cato's funeral.

Shaking her head, she ripped it in half and threw it in the trash can. _Forget it.__  
_

**Guess which song it is! Thank you so much again for all the reviews on the last chapter!**


	4. Song 4

**I'm so sorry that it's been so long! I'm not going to blame the wait on anything other than laziness. A lot of laziness.**

**Congrats to Annatom14 and Isabelle. Ludwig for guessing I Knew You Were Trouble! ArtemisCarolineSnow, nice guesses! This one was harder than the other ones. I haven't even heard of "Best Days Of Your Life" before, so thanks!**

Clove lay on her stomach on her bed, reading that day's assigned chapter about the 11th Hunger Games, where a woman from District Four named Mags had won. Glancing down at the question sheet, she quickly wrote down Mags' weapon of choice, number of tributes killed, and occupation before she was reaped for the Games.

The next few questions were slightly harder, but nothing Clove would have trouble with. _What skills did Mags' occupation give her that would be useful in the Hunger Games? What skills did all of the people in her alliance have in common? What was Mags' angle and strategy? How did that help her in the Hunger Games?_

Clove was in the middle of a sentence when she heard yelling coming from the house next door. Her best friend's house.

Alarmed, Clove gazed through her window into Cato's room. He was pacing around his room, gesturing wildly as he spoke loudly on the phone.

Through the open windows, Clove could overhear the conversation they were having. Who couldn't? It was more of a scream-fest.

"Look Kennedia-"

"DON'T 'KENNEDIA' ME! WHEN WILL YOU LEARN TO ACCEPT THAT YOUR JOKES AREN'T FUNNY AT ALL?! HOW DARE YOU INSULT CALLIOPE'S SENSE OF FASHION?!"

"Kennedia-"

"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!"

"I'm sorry, Kennedia, I'm really sorry. I promise I'll never insult your friend's fashion ever again. Please forgive me, Kennedia."

No sound came from his phone. Kennedia had hung up. Cato cursed, punching the wall and using a few colorful words that Clove would have preferred not to have heard.

_Why in Panem would Cato let his airhead of a girlfriend push him around like that? _Clove thought in frustration and anger. _If I was his girlfriend, I would never- wait, what? No!_

Clove pressed her lips together and reached under her bed to pull out a notepad. Quickly finishing the sentence on the question sheet and flipping to a blank page in the notepad, she grabbed a marker and began writing on the new page.

Cato put his phone down and glanced through the window at Clove. When he saw her writing on the notepad, he grabbed his own notepad.

_You OK? _She held up the notepad with the words on it. Cato smiled slightly and wrote back-

_Sick of drama_

_ I would think so, _Clove thought sarcastically, shooting him a sympathetic look. Cato gave a small shrug and put away his notepad.

Clove started writing something on her notepad, but by the time she was done, Cato had shut his curtains. Sighing sadly, she half-heartedly held up the notepad.

_ I love you_

* * *

_Who was the last tribute that died? Write an essay about him/her. Minimum number of paragraphs: 4. Include background, angle and strategy, weapons of choice, death, etc._

Clove finished her homework and carelessly shoved the textbook and assignment sheets in her backpack. She turned up the music on her music player and took out her knife collection.

Grabbing a few knives, she hurled them at the headboard of her bed, which already bore a million knife marks.

Using a knife as a microphone to sing loudly to the music, Clove chucked knives at the headboard while dancing. As she had more than fifty knives of different shapes and sizes, she didn't run out for a while.

Cato peeked through his curtain at Clove's room. She was currently rapidly hurling knives at the headboard and belting out the lyrics to the song. He couldn't help but laugh at his best friend's antics and shook his head in amusement.

Clove threw her microphone-knife at the headboard at gazed at it in satisfaction. Cato laughed one last time and shut the curtain.

The afternoon sun shone down on District Two. Clove sat on the wooden bench in front of her house, delved deep in her book. It was about two lovers from District Twelve that were reaped into the Hunger Games. They both made it to the end, but ended up swallowing poisonous berries named night-lock and therefore committing suicide since they obviously couldn't both live.

Clove smiled sadly as she finished reading the epilogue, where the two lovers were reunited in heaven.

Footsteps approached Clove. She shut the book and glanced up, smiling when she saw Cato's blond hair glint in the sunlight.

"Hey," she greeted.

"Hey yourself," he replied, grinning as he sat down next to her. Clove clutched the book close to her chest and leaned back on the back-rest, a small smile gracing her face.

They just stayed there, talking about everything and nothing at all, and all of a sudden, a thought flashed through Clove's mind. _This is how it should always be._

A sleek black car pulled up next to the bench. Cato shot her one last smirk before getting up and getting in the car. Clove glanced at the girl sitting in the driver's seat. _Oh goody. _

Kennedia leaned over and pulled Cato into a hug. From behind Cato's back, she shot Clove a filthy look, glaring daggers at her. Clove simply stuck her tongue out and smirked, making a show of rolling her eyes. Kennedia glared harder and Clove's smirk grew wider.

* * *

Cato stood in the window of the train, waving and smirking at all of District Two. Clove jumped up and down, waving as widely as she could, but Cato still couldn't see her. _Curse my shortness._

Cato made his way off the train, shooting winks and smirks at the crowd. Clove shoved her way through the crowd, trying to get closer to Cato.

"CATO!" she shouted. The cheers of the crowd drowned out her yells. "CATO!"

"Quit yelling in my ear," a boy in front of her hissed. Clove pushed past him. "CATO!" Cato still didn't hear her.

Clove glimpsed him through all the bulky bodies. He pushed through the crowd and stopped in front of a girl with long, glossy blond hair. _Kennedia._

Cato's mouth was moving, but Clove was too far away to hear what he was saying. However, she could see that Kennedia was standing at the side of another boy, and shooting him scornful and disgusted looks as she spat words out at him.

Clove gazed at the scene disbelievingly, her mouth slowly starting to fall open. Cato blinked, looking shocked, before shrugging and walking away. Anyone who was looking would think that he didn't really care, but Clove was the only one that could make out the slumping in his shoulders, the glazing over in his eyes, the forced smiles.

* * *

That night, there was a party at the Academy to celebrate Cato's victory. Clove had decided not to go. Cato would be the only person she knew there, and she knew he would be surrounded by his friends and admirers the whole night. She didn't feel like having to fight fighting for Cato's attention for hours, and knew she would just be sitting alone when Cato was talking to other people.

It was right before the party, and Cato was all dressed up in his tuxedo. Clove was still in her everyday Academy t-shirt and pants.

Cato grabbed a pencil and started writing on his notepad. Seeing this out of her window, Clove reached under her bed to grab her own notepad.

_Are you going to the party tonight? _ Cato wrote on his notepad.

Clove bit her bottom lip. _No, I'm busy, _she wrote back.

_ Wish you were here, _Cato wrote.

Clove smiled at the sweet note and glanced down. _You know he doesn't mean it like that, _she scolded herself in her head.

Cato grabbed his coat and got up to leave. Clove glanced down and pulled back some of her homework sheets to reveal a simply sheet of paper with three words on it.

_I love you._

Clove walked through the Academy doors, red dress swishing around her feet. She took a deep breath and pulled back the door that led to the main training room, which had been cleared out for the party decorations.

The crowd parted for her as she walked slowly through, many pairs of eyes turning toward her.

Clove glanced nervously at all the people staring at her. _Do I have something on my face? _She mentally shook her head at the thought. _No, don't think like that. You shouldn't care what they think. You are confident._

Then she spotted Cato and all her thoughts flew out the window. She swallowed nervously and approached him slowly.

Cato turned to see what everyone was staring at, his jaw nearly dropping. He started to walk toward her after he got over his initial shock.

"Cato!" a girly voice trilled. A hand landed on his shoulder and turned him toward whoever it was.

"Hey Cato," Kennedia purred smoothly. "Look, about yesterday-"

"Get lost," Cato deadpanned, turning back to Clove before Kennedia could reply.

"Cato!" Kennedia called, shock flitting across her face. Cato ignored her and continued to Clove.

Seeing this, Clove smiled to herself and started unfolding a piece of paper. Cato reached inside his coat and pulled out a similar piece of paper and started unfolding it.

_I love you, _read Clove's sign.

_I love you, _read Cato's sign.

Both of them smiled and moved toward each other. Having watched the whole thing, Kennedia spat, "What?!" in shock before storming away.

Clove gazed up at Cato, eyes shining as he leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers.

**This one's kind of obvious. Well it's actually really obvious. Sorry if that's annoying. I know this is kind of short, but I was really eager to update the story since it's been so long. Review please!**


	5. Song 5

**Wow guys.**

**I'm sorry to say this, but the last song was NOT "You Belong With Me"!**

**Tsk, tsk. I can't believe all you people guessed it, when the right answer was so OBVIOUS!**

**...**

**Just kidding.**

**Congratulations to sibuna4everfabina, daenerysstormbornslaysyourfavs, clovelycato555, Somebody knows, Isabelle. Ludwig, Annatom14, and Guest for guessing "You Belong With Me"! I know it was really easy. Hopefully this one has you thinking a bit more. ;)**

**So I posted the last chapter, right? And OVERNIGHT, 18 reviews turned to 23! HOW AMAZING AND CRAZY AND INSANE AND AWESOME AND _IMPOSSIBLE_ IS THAT?**

**Anyway, here's the chapter that you guys are really wanting.**

"Training is over!" the instructor announced. "Please report to your respective classrooms for "Hunger Games History".

Clove grabbed her messenger bag containing her favorite knives and a few other things. She kept her gaze on the ground and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as she passed a blond boy chatting loudly with his friends. When she passed them, she let out a small breath and relaxed.

"Clove!"

Clove turned around at the sound of the instructor's voice. He strode briskly over to her and beckoned for her to follow him.

She felt the blond boy's gaze burning into her back as she followed the instructor and she focused on not tripping or making a fool of herself.

Once they turned into another hallway, Clove relaxed her muscles and continued on with ease.

When the instructor started approaching the door to the Academy headmaster's office, a flash of alarm shot through Clove. _Am I in trouble?_

The instructor shared a few words with the secretary and led Clove to another room. He beckoned to the single chair in front of the oak desk and Clove took a seat, swallowing nervously.

"Stay here," the instructor ordered, before exiting.

The door slammed shut behind him. Clove's hand immediately went to her side, feeling around for the knife she always kept in the waistband.

Five minutes passed, and nothing had happened. Clove was considering leaving to go to her "Hunger Games History" class when the door opened.

The headmaster and two other people, a man and a woman, stepped into the room. The headmaster took a seat on the other side of the desk and the two other people flanked him on either side.

"Hello, Clove," the headmaster greeted me in a deep, gravelly voice.

Clove swallowed. "Hello."

"You must be wondering why I called you here," the headmaster said. _You think? _ Clove nodded. "This is Mr. Spencer and Ms. Maverick," he said, gesturing to the two stone-faced people standing next to him. "Mr. Spencer is the headmaster of the Academy on the west side of District Two, and Ms. Maverick is the headmistress of the Academy on the south side of District Two. I'll leave the rest for them to explain."

Clove turned my gaze to the people next to him.

The woman spoke first. "You are quite famous, Clove, among us knife-throwers. A 14 year-old, joining the eighteen year-old division because of her knife-throwing skills? Well Mr. Spencer and I have decided to invite you to a weapons demo at our Academies."

"If you choose to accept," Mr. Spencer continued, breaking Ms. Maverick off, making her scowl at him, "you will be showing off your knife-throwing skills, as well as your skills in all of the other areas. You and the others there will be ranked and the rankings will be taken into great consideration when deciding tributes for the Hunger Games."

"Of course I'll attend," Clove said immediately. Ms. Maverick smiled, though the smile doesn't reach her eyes.

"All the information about the demo will be in this packet," she said, handing Clove a small packet. "I look forward to seeing you there." She walked out. Mr. Spencer flashed Clove a cold smile and nodded to her before following Ms. Maverick out.

* * *

"Clove?"

Clove swallowed at the familiar voice and turned slowly. The blond boy that she'd been staring at during training jogged up to her.

"Cato," she greeted curtly, not trusting her own voice.

Cato smirked at her and she nearly melted, clenching her fists as she forced herself to keep it together.

"So I heard from my father that you were invited to some weapon demos at the other Academies," he said, falling in step behind her.

_Of course you did, _Clove thought. _Your father's the headmaster of the Academy._

"Well my sister's also going," Cato continued, running a hand over his short blond hair.

At this I perked up. _His sister?_

"Your sister?" Clove echoed her thoughts.

"Yeah," Cato replied. "She's gonna be throwing knives."

"Me too," Clove said, a giddy feeling rising up inside her. _He's talking to me! I can't believe he's talking to me!_

"Cool," Cato said, flashing her a smirk. _O great mother of Panem._

"And you said… that you'll be there?" Clove repeated, her heartbeat speeding up slightly. Cato nodded.

"Cool," Clove mimicked Cato, trying desperately to keep her cool.

"See you there," Cato said, grinning at her before he jogged off to talk to his friends.

"See you…" Clove echoed, gazing after him with a distant smile on her face.

_This is definitely the best day of my life._

* * *

Thunk.

_"You did really good, Clove," Cato commented, smiling charmingly at her._

_"Thanks," Clove replied, a dark red flush rising to her cheeks._

Thunk.

_"This is my sister," Cato explained, gesturing to a blond girl. _

_"I'm Myra," the blond girl introduced herself. "Are you Cato's girlfriend?"_

_Clove glanced at Cato and he merely raised his eyebrows._

Thunk.

_Clove rapidly hurled knives at the targets and each of them stuck in the center. Applause exploded from the audience and Clove turned to face everyone, smiling as she spotted Cato in the back. He was clapping loudly and shot her a grin._

Every one of her knives had missed. Again.

"ARRGGHH!" Clove let out a frustrated scream.

She had gone back to the Academy a few hours after school ended to practice her knife-throwing for the demo. She was alone. Or so she thought.

_This is the worst day of my life._

"Okay," Clove said out loud to herself. "Stop thinking about… him and get on with your knife-throwing."

Among the shadows, unknown to Clove, a tall figure smirked.

* * *

Clove lay on her bed, kicking her legs in the air. She knew she should be practicing her knife-throwing, especially with the results of that day, but she couldn't bring herself to go back to the Academy.

_Maybe he'll ask me to be his girlfriend after the demo, _Clove thought dreamily. _But what if…_

_Oh no, _Clove thought, sitting up in alarm.

_What if I mess up? What I don't hit the center of a single target, like today?_

Clove buried her face in her hands. _That would be so embarrassing…_

_It's okay, Clove, _Clove told herself sternly. _All you have to do is practice hard and you'll be fine._

So she practiced.

She practiced so hard.

After a few days, Clove was able to push Cato out of her head enough so that she could practice well.

Thunk.

Thunk.

Thunk.

Every knife hit the center of the targets. Clove smiled. _I'm back._

* * *

Knife blades shone, reflecting the golden light as Clove entered the huge room.

It was already crowded, filled with important Academy officials and the families of victors that attended the Academies.

Clove wandered around a little bit, sizing up her competition and gobbling up delicate little snacks.

Suddenly, she felt a light hand on her shoulder. She turned and blinked at the lady that the hand belonged to.

"May I… help you?" she asked. The lady smiled.

"Clove, is it?" she said. Clove nodded. "I've heard a lot about you," she commented. I smiled.

More people joined the lady as we talk and soon I've attracted a small crowd. Every few seconds, I glanced at the door out of the corner of my eye, waiting for Cato to walk in.

He never came.

Soon we're called up for the demo. _Where are you?! _I screamed in my head as I stood in one of the rows on stage, sweeping my gaze around the room, searching for his familiar smirk.

"And now, we have our knife-throwers," the announcer called. "First up are Marline, Sabille, and Ashby. Marline is the top knife-thrower in her year and has been ever since she started at an Academy…"

I swallowed. Soon it would be my turn. People leave the rows and perform their skill, then leave the stage until it's only me and two other girls left in the knife-throwing division; one fifteen year-old and one eighteen year-old.

"Last and the best in the knife-throwing division, we have Ariel, Tilver, and Clove," the announcer said. "Ariel is the daughter of Pailey, victor of the 39th Hunger Games. She has certainly lived to the expectations of being a victor's daughter, and, despite her fifteen years of age, is the best knife-thrower in her Academy, all the way up to the seventeen year-old division."

The crowd applauded loudly, but I've only heard flashes of the speech; my attention is focused on finding Cato.

"Tilver has had aptitude for the Games for four years straight, all because of her knife-throwing skills. She is the best in her Academy and has worked hard to get there."

The audience exploded in clapping.

It's my turn.

"Clove is a mere fourteen years of age, but has excelled in all areas of weapon skill, especially in knife-throwing. She is well past even the eighteen year-olds in knife-throwing, and is one of the top choices for this year's Hunger Games tributes!"

Thundering applause followed the speech and I gazed stonily out at the crowd.

"Girls, pick up your knives," the announcer ordered. I strode over to the long metal table at the side of the stage and picked up my knives.

The dummies have three targets on each of them: one where the heart should be, one where the throat should be, and one on the stomach. A target for each knife.

A big screen flashed above the dummies. A bright yellow three appeared on the screen, then a two, then one…

The first knife flew from my hand to land in the heart of the dummy.

The three reappeared. Two. One.

The second knife embedded itself in the throat of the dummy.

Three.

_This is the last knife._

Two.

_It's almost over._

One.

_Where's Cato?_

Thunk.

My last knife flew past the dummy and landed in the wooden board behind it. Not even close to where it should be.

* * *

Clove stared in shock at the knife. _What-how? Why?_

Everything seemed muted in her ears, despite the thunderous applause. All Clove could make sense of was the last knife.

Clove walked off the stage blank-faced and once she was out of sight, she braced herself against a wall and slowly slide down until she was in a sitting position.

She buried her head in her hands as Tilver and Ariel walked by, her face burning with humiliation.

Ariel had gotten two bull's-eyes and her third knife landed just a little right of the target. Still a fatal shot.

Tilver had gotten three bull's-eyes.

Clove stayed sitting against the wall until someone noticed she was missing. Her mother was the one who found her.

She dragged Clove back to the rest of the group. "The group", meaning Clove's father, aunt and uncle, grandparents, private knife-throwing instructor, and her few friends.

"How could you mess up that last throw?" Clove's private knife-throwing instructor demanded as soon as she saw her. "It was awful and _embarrassing_."

Clove swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to fight back tears. Not because of her knife-throwing instructor's words. Because Cato's absence was finally sinking in.

The tears spilled over. Everyone gazed at me in shock, and my father turned away in disgust.

"Are you _crying_?" my aunt asked incredulously.

Clove opened her mouth, but no sound comes out. What was she supposed to say? That she got distracted because her crush didn't come to the demo?

* * *

"Hello?"

"Hey, is this Clove?" Clove swallowed at the familiar voice. _That _voice.

"Yeah," she replied.

"Listen, I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the demo," Cato's voice said smoothly over the phone. "I know I said I'd be there, but I just... something came up."

Clove was silent.

"I'm sorry too."

Then she hung up.

Clove blew a breath out of her nose and blinked back tears. He'd been playing with her.

He told her he was going to distract her from practicing, and then didn't go to distract her from her performance, so that his sister would win more favor from the judges and therefore be more likely to be chosen for the Games.

He knew about her crush on him, he knew she would react the exact way she did, he knew.

How, she did not know.

But she swore never to be deceived like that again.

**I know this is a wierd place to end, but I had no idea where to end or how to. So here it is.**

**School started started today, so from now on I won't be able to update as often as I have over the summer. :( I'll try to write as much and fast as I can so I'll be able to update sooner, but try not to expect updates every week or something.**

**So, what do you think the song was? Was it easy? Hard? Medium? Review!**


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